


Ineal's Practise

by HachiroKenichi, ladychance



Series: The Institute [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anthro, Anthropomorphic, Anxiety, Asylum, Atamori Institute, Detox, Drug Addiction, Drugs, Gen, Immortals, Mental Hospital, Mental Institutions, Original Character(s), Original Species, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Recovery, Research institute, Roleplay, Roleplay Logs, Smoking, Suggestive Themes, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, Vampires, institute, kirinae, sergal - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-28 22:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21399325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HachiroKenichi/pseuds/HachiroKenichi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladychance/pseuds/ladychance
Summary: Rhiel Morrigan is a god, the divine, immortal representation of Luck, Eternity, and Deceit. He’s also a fuckup. He’s always been a fuckup. It’s all he knows how to do anymore. Fail, pick himself up off the floor, and throw himself back into another failure. That’s the cycle.The exhausting, endless cycle. And it’s one he’s had enough of. The road to recovery is long and fraught with danger from within, but he’s determined to discover just who he is beneath all the maladaptive coping mechanisms. Whether he likes the man he’ll find there remains to be seen.Ineal is... Old. To say the least. He's had plenty of time to be the good, the bad, and the oh so ugly. It was time to do good for others. Co-founder, and co-financier of the Atamori Institute, he is far from too good to be on the ground, and dealing with patients of the hospital itself. A fairly accomplished psychiatrist, through several... Unique capabilities, he find himself stumbling across a new patient thrown into his realm through little choice of their own.
Series: The Institute [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542754





	1. Opening a Door Doesn't Always Lead Where You Think

Ineal hadn't had much to say for much of the day. Paperwork. It never seemed to end, and considering he co-owned the institute, much of it couldn't so easily be passed off to secretaries. By gods did he try to, though. At least he rarely seemed to have the need to sleep... Still, he made his way through it, finally breaking through with the last few by midday.

Now... Came the actual work.

Certainly, he saw patients; he was a doctor, after all, but much of his time was spent making rounds. Checking the hospital itself, and providing more in-the-minute help to those that might need it. Orderlies and counsellors certainly did the job as well, but... Well, "_Ineal had a way with the patients_" went the euphemism. He didn't hide what he was. He didn't flaunt it, either, and one could be forgiven for being unaware at first given his usual state of glamour.

Ineal was a vampire. A rather unusual one, at that. Well over 8 feet tall, and distinctly _not human. _A sergal, outwardly. Though, by all accounts of his history, he certainly wouldn’t fall into that species. Nearly 8,000 years old, it was hard to say just exactly what he was. He looked like one, however, and it was easy enough to explain it away to people. Most at least had a passing knowledge of such species. A white back came to the top of his arms, tail, head and snout, the rest of him an ashen grey, including the distinctive tuft at the tip of that rather stout tail.

He dressed… Smartly. Rarely one to rest in an older time, he did have a fondness for well-pressed, sharp suits. At least those weren’t out of style... Yet. His stature was imposing, when he wanted it to be, and a far more gentle-giant sort of figure when he didn’t. Certainly a man of many faces, he had to be given his age… And the memory that went along with his ancient mind.

There was much to be seen about Ineal.

-

Distress. It was a clarion call, a ringing in the back of Rhiel's mind, loud and clamoring for his attention. Always, lately, it seemed. There was nothing for it but to drown it out, shaking fingers peeling the backing off patches of Bliss, struggling to spark the ignition patch on a pack of medicated cigarettes. Ice rattling against the sides of the glass as he poured burning liquid down his throat. The only outward signs of panic, fear, despair, that tremor, and the too-loud laughter, the brightness to his eyes when he smiled manic-wide. But that was Rhiel. That was always Rhiel. Nothing new, nothing strange, nothing unusual. Nothing to remark on.

Everything felt loud, close, bright, too tight. The usual remedies weren't enough. They put distance between him and the feelings and did nothing to stop them. He'd drunk until he was sick and still, still, _still_, there it was, pressing in until he thought he might shake himself apart. The floor tilted beneath booted feet. Someone laughed and he started hard, saved only from a face-first trip to the floor by muscle memory so deeply ingrained it looked like intentional grace when he caught himself against the bar. Rhiel drew a single, deep breath, tried to count to ten, found the numbers falling out of order, scattering out of his grasp, and shuddered. He could feel the panic rising. Catching up. The beast that had dogged his heels for days would not be called off. And here, in public, _in front of Arisa_ and- _No_, no. It couldn't happen this way.

He slurred an excuse, some lie he wouldn't remember later, and dragged himself away from the press of bodies and into the blessed cool and dark and still too loud. There was a door, a closet or bathroom, it didn't matter. It was Away. It might be quiet on the other side. He grabbed the handle, felt a familiar flush of orgasmic, liquid heat, and only had time for a distressed noise before his momentum carried him through the door, too late to pull it, and sent him sprawling—

Right onto cool, polished floor, bright light, and soft murmurs of voices distant, lives lived, and business gone about. It was no bar bathroom that found itself graced with the lanky, 6' tall, dispossessed god, but somewhere entirely new. Somewhere so clean and peaceful that the sound of his own pulse and the smell of liquor and smoke on his skin seemed like a small blasphemy. _Maybe_, Rhiel managed to think, _maybe if I don't move, no one will know I'm here. Maybe they'll think I'm dead_.

And in answer, the long length of his tufted tail slowly lifted, curling, like a banner to signal his continued persistence, and inside he swore colorfully in about six languages. He tried to raise himself on shaking arms. The room spun. He ceased the attempt immediately. That, he decided, could wait a minute. Or ten. <strike>Or more.</strike>

On the floor he remained, all six feet of lanky, too-pale, underfed man. He sprawled inelegantly and utterly still, aside from the persistent wiggle of his long, white tail. The black tuft on the end of it was like a little flag, a quiet signal announcing: ‘here lies a fool’.

-

... _Oh._ It was well enough that the doctor had taken to his walking when he did. It wouldn't be the first time that someone had fallen into this space... Not the first time within the past couple of weeks, in fact. His mind wandered to that patient, a kind woman that had been through hell and back, a few times at least. Perhaps literally at least once. Had Felicia invited someone new..? A soft tut, and he began to make his way towards the hallway, not far from where he was. Straightening his suit down, he rounded the corner to take sight of the heap of... Tailed person laying on the ground. _Well._ The soft _tk tk_ of his feet on the tile floor dulled and slowed a bit as he approached, softly clearing his throat to announce his presence before drawing too close.

-

Feet. Approaching feet. Rhiel wasn't too drunk to know what _that_ sound was, at least. The pale man slowly, so slowly, turned his head to sight along the plane of floor, seeking the source of the sound. Those were, indeed, feet, not shoes. There was at least a tiny bit of relief in that, in knowing he wouldn't be a spectacle, but that thought was so deeply internal he didn't even acknowledge it aside from a slight loosening of a tension he didn't know he'd been feeling. Too often the godling stood out among a crowd of humans and the human-like.

As standing was simply too much of a task to ask of his body, Rhiel instead gently suggested to it that it roll over to the side, at least. It complied, mostly. Partly. The upper half did anyway. Bright violet eyes, surrounded by a fan of white lashes, peered up at the newcomer. They didn't quite want to focus. Everything about Rhiel seemed to be pale, save for the shock of black at the nape of his neck and the end of his tail, and the intensity of his eyes.

This man wasn't the strangest thing Rhiel had encountered, but he was possibly the best-dressed strange thing. Rhiel's tail shifted to drape across the floor beside him, thin and curling, easily as long as he was tall even without the thick tuft of black at the end of it. The black continued in a crest along its white, shorter-furred length, disappearing beneath the rucked-up hem of his shirt, lining his spine. Whatever Rhiel was, he smelled like a still and was clearly having a hard time getting up off the floor now that he was down there.

-

Ineal approached a bit closer once he seemed to be acknowledged by the person, finally drawing himself near enough to hold a reasonable conversation. He dropped to a squat, then a two-legged kneel. One eye, the other appeared to be tightly closed, looked over the man. Pale, but... No, not one of his kind. Not the kind of pale that comes from alcohol poisoning either, though that certainly might have been a factor. A slight lean forward, and he made it a little more clear he was looking Rhiel over.

A few moments later, he softened, and offered a gentle smile. It was almost disarming, there was something... No doubt off about the sergal. Hell, depending on Rhiel's state, he might even be able to tell that Ineal wasn't _actually _alive. The doctor gave a small grunt, amicably enough. "Need a hand up, or want to hang out down there for a little while?" The voice was... Smooth, calm, slightly deep. It didn't befit his species' normal voices; high and airy, squeaky, almost creaky they usually were. Then again, it didn't entirely sound like it was coming from just his mouth. A little more all surrounding... Those who knew could tell the illusory nature of things. He offered a four-fingered hand to the man, rocking back from his knees to his haunches rather easily. _Was he even touching the floor? His knees were... __**Clean.**_

-

It took Rhiel a long moment of consideration before he picked out the words the man had said to him, compared them to the index of languages and assigned meaning. This was the one Arisa spoke at home, the one her parents used most commonly. He had a decent grasp on it usually, but in his current state it took a little longer than he wanted to admit to puzzle it out, and longer still to assemble a reply. Falling through the portal had been like being splashed with cold water- disorienting, a little upsetting, but very effective at distracting him from the burgeoning panic attack that had brought him here in the first place.

Rhiel drew a long, slow breath, let the cool of the air fill his senses, and carefully shaped his reply with the precise over-enunciation of the heavily intoxicated, or someone who ordinarily spoke a foreign tongue that was trying very, very hard to sound native. He still had a tendency to lengthen vowels, shaving the hardness out of words and making them into a tenor murmur. "It's not respectable to lay on the floor in public. But I don't want to throw up. Ought stay put."

-

Ineal drew a long, slow breath. Painfully unnecessary, but he found the sound generally helped calm people. There was no impatience to his demeanour or expression, it was obvious he was used to dealing with people in states like this. The reply had him drop his hand and take a seat next to the man, folding his digitigrade legs together. "Then I suppose we'll stay put for a little while. Can I ask your name? I've not seen you around here before... And there was a bit of a disturbance not long ago..." He had subtly slowed his speech, enunciating a bit more clearly. The accent was implacable at the moment, the drunken slurring certainly doing little to help him figure it out. The lead-on was wholly intentional, Ineal trying to gauge just how lucid the man was. After all, disorientation wasn't necessarily a loss of cognition on all fronts... Even now, he was still acting a doctor. He was just very good at not making it clear.

-

"You can ask," Rhiel replied, sharp, but it was followed by a brief, manic cackle of laughter. No offense taken or meant. Just a tendency to try and deflect as much as possible, ingrained reflex he couldn't have stopped if he'd wanted to. He itched to smoke. There was almost certainly no smoking somewhere as pretty and bright as this. "Rhielian Fortunat Morrigan, world-walker, adventurer, _casanova_, at your service," Another cackle, but for what it was unclear.

"Rhiel, though. That's fine. More than fine. Please don't call me the other thing. And no 'sir' or 'mister' or...." Babbling. He was babbling. He needed to stop babbling. But the words were crawling up his throat "I can be very disturbing, I offer apologies, I rarely mean to be." Something was clearing behind those violet eyes as Rhiel spoke, an itch along his shoulders as the small blue patch on the back of his neck began to flake away, depleted entirely.

-

Ineal flinched slightly at the laughter. Uncontrolled, reflex laughter, too quick to be anything but. A slight bemused smile, and he nodded at the name being given. He didn't interrupt the man as he rambled on, at least for a few moments. "It's alright... Coming through can be a jarring experience... I'm not sure I can place where that name comes from, though." He mused, slightly tipping his head as the little patch began to flake off. Medication of some sort, no doubt. "Rhiel, then..." Ineal began, cautiously looking into his eyes with his own, the right eye still closed tightly. It didn't seem an empty socket, either.

"... So where are you from, Rhiel? And if you think I won't know the place... Try me." He gave a bit of a cheeky grin. "Oh, and... Do with some water?"

-

"_From_. Ha. Yeah, from, that's good. I don't know. Everywhere? There's a little rock called Tirranath, some failed but not failed cluster of humanity my mother turned inside out..." Rhiel's speech was clearer, just a little, words coming more easily, but if anything the accent thickened as he stopped putting quite so much effort into it. He still sounded terribly drunk. The floor still didn't want to stay in one place, and his pupils were pinpricks, more reactive than even daylight seemed to call for.

"But it isn't really home. Haven't one of those." A chuckle followed the last, despite the lack of a joke. Something internal, maybe. Rhiel managed to roll over entirely onto his side, and even wedged an arm beneath himself for a little leverage without quite bringing anything up. His head swam. He tested the points of his teeth with his tongue and spent a moment breathing through his mouth to calm the nausea.

-

Ineal offered a bit of a calming, somewhat reassuring grin to the man. "Ah, one of those types... Not the first one I've met." He nodded a bit, the accent coming more clear. Alright, he just didn't know it straight out. That was unique. "And... I can sympathise. Spent many a year without one of those." He offered a bit of a grimace, then glanced around again. He flicked what appeared to be a rectangle of hard light from his pocket, tapping something out quickly before replacing it. Only a few moments later, a second set of steps came from behind. A glimpse of a woman clearly in scrubs, with a styrofoam cup could be caught, before she passed the cup to Ineal. Looking up, Ineal smiled in gratitude and nodded briefly before offering the cup to Rhiel. "Some water, should help settle the stomach. I can get some gravol or something to help as well, if that works."

-

Rhiel had the cup of water in his hand before he considered the source. He froze, holding it still, as every word that Ineal had spoken to him scattered and dissolved within the cage of his mind. Gone. Fled. There was in their place a humming, a white noise, his head snapped up and staring after the retreating figure with an intensity of focus he'd not been capable of seconds previously. Rhiel's mouth was painfully dry, but he made no attempt at all to drink the water. He set the cup down just to prove that he could. "Where am I." As much a statement as a question, clearly, perfectly enunciated. The words tasted like poison, spoken in a language that served, too, to remind him of another place, another time, and another man who'd seemed to mean so very, very well.

-

Ineal caught the panic rising quickly. Ah, that shouldn't be terribly surprising. Hospitals could be stressful places, indeed. A slow purse of his lips, he sighed. "... You are in a safe place and may leave at any time you wish to." He said primarily. Fervent damage control time. Seems he'd been shocked into sobriety for the moment, though. "I understand if you would rather not be here, I'm sure you're aware of the sort of place this is, now. I can show you the way to the outside if you are uncomfortable." He reassured, staying sat next to the man. After all, he didn't need to seem any more intimidating. "But please, at least have a sip of the water. You're going to be dehydrated from that drinking."

-

Rhiel flicked his gaze between the water and Ineal, considering, weighing. It smelled like just water. But trust had burned him so badly in the past that it was hard to come by now. And the suggestion itself raised his hackles, had the lanky man gently nudging the cup slightly further from his person. He wanted no part of it. Even if it did look refreshing. And his mouth felt like sandpaper. And his head was swimming with the whiplash of sudden sobriety. He could feel the adrenaline burning the alcohol from his body, along with, most unfortunately, the last lingering vestiges of Bliss. "I want to leave. And I want to smoke. Where can I smoke?"

_Safe_. Rhiel felt anything but. The susurrus of conversation and busyness was no longer comforting or calming. The light was too bright. The soft colors made him feel sick. And now that he'd seen to the truth of the place he couldn't unsee it. It was a dizzying combination of nostalgic comfort and fear, good memories turned sour.

-

Ineal nodded. He shouldn't have been surprised. No sense in pushing to convince the man, now. Finally, slowly, he pushed up to stand, though stayed kneeling as he offered a hand down to Rhiel. "At least let me help you along." He asked, smiling in a... Disarmingly reassuring way. Well. A little bit of seduction in his gaze hopefully would help calm the man. "You can smoke in the courtyard, where we're heading. This is a university and institute as well, so the facilities are... Large." He admitted. "I'd offer you some of my personal ones, but, well. Not everyone can take wolfsbane." He chuckled a bit, still holding his hand flat up for Rhiel to take.

-

"I have. A robust constitution. But I have my own," Rhiel replied, simply. He eyeballed Ineal's offered hand and had to accept that there wasn't much danger in accepting it. Even if the other man did tower over him. Even if the strength in that arm when he accepted the help to haul himself to his feet was a little disconcerting. Rhiel still felt cautiously optimistic that he could break free if he had to. Probably. Maybe. "You study what, exactly?" If Rhiel sounded antagonistic when he asked the question, well, it could surely be chalked up to general stress. Just that.

-

Ineal nodded. "Fair enough." Indeed, the strength was... Unnatural. It almost seemed like he didn't notice Rhiel's weight as he stood up, hoisting the man to his feet and hooking his arm under Rhiel's pit. Supporting, but not restricting, Ineal didn't close the loop of his arm to provide that support. A long ear perked at the question. "Hm? Oh. We study a vast array of things. Drugs, mechanical and electronic augmentations, spaceflight technologies, hard light devices, and of course, medical techniques and devices." He spoke calmly, hoping he wouldn't set the man off again.

-

Rhiel considered pulling away, but that would answer those questions he still had doubts over the answers to. And for now, the doubts gave him comfort. He didn't need proof that Ineal could outmuscle him. The explanation of the institute did nothing to comfort him, however. His tail twitched with his agitation, like a banner behind him to signal to all and sundry the depths of his discomfort. There was a fine tremor to the pale man that Ineal couldn't miss, not so close and supporting some of his weight, a wire-taught tension beneath the skin that spoke of a person on the precipice of _something_, and none of it good.

There was the white noise again, and Rhiel shoved a hand into his back pocket, pulling out a foil-wrapped packet that he tore open with the points of his wickedly sharp eye-teeth without a second thought. Long fingers pulled out a blue square like the one that had flaked off of his neck, and he thought nothing at all of sticking the new one on the next nearest patch of skin, a bit of shoulder exposed by the wide neck of his shirt. There were numbers on the packet and on the patch, gave it the look of something medicinal, beneath simple block script stating 'BLISS'. The trash he pocketed again. "Sounds. Worthwhile," Rhiel bit off, and waited for the patch to work its magic.

-

Ineal paused in their gentle walk, one quick enough to make it clear he wasn't trying to keep him there, but not so quick as to cause him to stumble. Flinchy, twitchy... Certainly highly anxious to be here. Well. Committing him right now would be counterproductive. Ineal stiffened slightly at the tremor, unsure if it was winding up for something, but he kept himself calm outwardly. The fervent motions were met with a curious tilt of the head, watching idly as he went about his movements. That was... Familiar packaging. Slowly reading across, he softened more. That explained a couple things. "We like to think so... That's a higher dose than most people have over an entire day of that stuff, and it's, what, four patches a day on average?" He mused idly, waiting for him to settle some with the effects of the drug before continuing on. There was no hint of condescension, judgement, or anything of the sort. Just... Idle, friendly conversation.

-

"Something like. I don't know. Don't really count." There were pink patches of skin though, suggesting places the patches had been within recent memory. There was a slightly defensive tone to his voice, in the set of his shoulders, head tipped to glance at Ineal along the line of his crooked nose almost as if daring him to voice a judgement, looking for it where there was none. "It's not addictive." Almost a truth, there. His body might not need it, but that did nothing to stop him from wanting it. Considering the alternative, though, this high-key creature with too much white around the eyes, it was hard to say what was better.

-

Ineal nodded idly, finally turning a corner. A pair of sleek, glass doors slid out of the way, almost silent on their tracks. Pleasantly warm air rolled into the slightly cooler building, a somewhat muted glow spilling in from the open courtyard. It was... Lush, beautiful by most standards. Like a garden, but quite clearly neatly managed. Walkways sprawled through the area, with benches abound. "No, you're right. It isn't." He nodded. Nothing to take the bait, there. Gone was the subtle smell of disinfectant, saline, and alcohol prep pads, to be replaced with... Fresh, summer petrichor. Y'know, an hour after a rainstorm in the suburbs. The clean ones. "By the by... Would you feel more comfortable drinking some water if I, and the nurse, had some as well?"

-

Rhiel didn't realize how much the smell was getting under his skin until it was gone. The fresh air was enough to make him shudder, head tipped back slightly as he drew in the scent and savored it. It and the Bliss were working wonders to unknot the tension in his shoulders, but even as he calmed it became clear that however drunk he had been, there was only clear sobriety in those violet eyes now. He scanned the grounds for any obvious signs of fencing, barriers, not even cognizant of his own hyper-vigilance.

"... I might. That might help. A lot. I'm not... I don't..." Rhiel paused, momentarily lost for words, and struggled to relocate the mask of charm and snark that kept him going. "I didn't live this long by trusting people, right?" He didn't even notice as he said it, the way his free hand came up to rub at the tip of a scar between his collarbones, disappearing beneath the neckline of his shirt.

-

Ineal simply offered a soft hum of understanding, leading Rhiel to one of the benches farther away from the doors. The sergal was idle in his motions as they arrived, allowing Rhiel to set himself down and taking his own seat on the other end of the bench... Mainly due to his size. "Well, in fairness... Neither have I. I understand where you're coming from... Though perhaps I'm slightly less vulnerable than most." He offered a fanged grin. Had Rhiel seen a sergal before, it would be clear that there were... Many more teeth in there than normal. A full set, in fact. Another quiet mutter into his free wrist mic, then his attention came back to the kirinae. "... Rhiel, can I ask... Were you a soldier in your past?"

-

Rhiel settled on the bench without complaint, as at the sight of it the weakness of his knees was suddenly very apparent. He didn't so much sit as fall in a controlled manner. He tried to mask it, but any keen observer was sure to notice. He draped his tail over his own lap, fingers smoothing the dark crest of fur and then fluffing it again, while he worried at his lip with the points of his own sharp teeth. "No. Well. Sort of. Merc, not a proper soldier. A few times. My husband-. Ex. Ex husband 'S how we met." Ineal was a new thing to Rhiel, a species he'd never encountered, and so the additional teeth were unremarkable, seemed at home in such a face.

-

Ineal gave a slight chuckle at the fall, nodding again in understanding. "Ah, yes... That would explain it. Your skills of observation bely it." He nodded a bit. Again, idle observations. "I'm sorry that he is your ex..."  
  
Ah, the sergal had found his awkwardness. Relationships. Rather mercifully, the orderly from before returned with a fresh cup of water. She took her sip first, quite obviously, before the sergal took the cup and did the same. Finally, the now barely two-thirds full cup was passed to Rhiel. "There." he said, grunting a bit after the swallow. Not used to regular drinks anymore. "All yours, now."

-

Rhiel accepted the cup and mulled over Ineal's reply, a faint twitch to his mouth that might have been a smile. Then he took a drink from the cup, and made no effort to mask the shiver of pleased satisfaction as the cool liquid soothed the dryness in his mouth. His second drink he used to wet his mouth before swallowing. Sorry was a curious word. "I'm not. Sorry, that is. Nothing lasts, except the things that do. That persist." Rhiel tipped back the rest of the water, then set the empty cup down beside himself. He didn't look at the orderly once. "My thanks." If Ineal was a man willing to drug himself and his people to do harm to a stranger, Rhiel figured he was fucked anyway.

-

Ineal seemed... Relieved, himself, as Rhiel finally got some non-alcoholic drink into him. The orderly hung around just a little while longer, as if to prove it wasn't some fast acting sedative drug, before giving a polite bow and taking his leave. It wasn't the first time this sort of paranoia had presented itself. "I suppose that's fair, I can certainly understand that sentiment. When you outlive most of your potential partners, well... There's odd ways to keep yourself sane." He stared out into the courtyard, glancing around himself, slightly. "Not a problem. I told you, you're in a safe place and we're people that try to help. It's also why I'm not going to try and make you stay unless you want to, and won't keep you here the moment you want to leave. Hospitals are a stressful place for most people. It's why we try to be different."

-

Rhiel tucked away that tidbit of information, that Ineal, like himself, had reason to expect more than mayfly's lifespan. He didn't know what he might do with that information, but he kept it all the same. With the water gone and his hands empty, there was nothing to stop him from polluting all the fresh air in his lungs with smoke, so he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a slim, metal case of cigarettes- these were marked just like the patch on his neck, _BLISS. _A faster-acting form, but not as long lasting. Rhiel withdrew one from the pack and lit it with the ignition patch on the side of the case, then took a long, deep drag of sweet-smelling smoke. His heart rate gradually slowed as he smoked down half the cigarette, and, for the time being, the shaking stopped. This was not a man who was fully processing what was happening around him. Slowly, things were filtering through, as the panic receded under the weight of the sedative effects Bliss. "I have mixed history with hospitals. Lived a varied life. But in my experience, they're all places where people die."

-

Ineal tilted his head a bit as the packet of cigarettes was produced. "Hm, that's a new form of delivery." He observed, slipping his own wallet-style cigarette case out. Anodized red aluminum with what appeared to be very, very high quality naga hide leather, coloured to match his suit. In fact, you could tell what species the naga was... Appeared to be a Mamba, by the fade to it. A click and the latch opened, revealing both sides filled to the brim with fragrant kretek. A trained nose could tell a scent under the cloves, and those who knew could place it as wolfsbane. Impressive for a vampire to smoke. He slipped one out, flicking a small flame from the tip of his thumb to light it. Ruby red, of course. Seems he had a theme.

The cigarette crackled eagerly as he drew on it, swirling a dull purple smoke around his head, almost as if it was alive. Certainly not natural, the way it clung around him. "... A shame your hospitals have been so poor. Admittedly, there is a death rate... We can't violate mortality of those too old to live, or those too far brain dead when they're brought in... But technology is quite the amazing beast when you let it be." He took another long drag, the cigarette barely seeming to draw down, in spite of his size, and that of the plume that came forth when he exhaled. Peculiar.

-

"Oh, I'd know it. Brain-dead is a funny thing," Rhiel murmured, took another drag, let the smoke burn in his lungs until he had to exhale it on a sigh. Ineal was... curiously easy to trust. There was something about the strange man's nature that put him at ease. Maybe it was the overtly supernatural air about him, something that reminded the pale man of another doctor, someone he trusted, the indefatigable Merian Aust, or maybe it was simply the Bliss smoothing out the edges and detaching him enough from the situation that he wasn't really present in it at all.

Rhiel hooked a finger in the neckline of his shirt all the same, tugging it down to display the thick line of scar that snaked down the line of his sternum. It looked old. But it was the only scar visible anywhere on his body. There weren't even small ones, tiny mistakes and accidents. Aside from that line, his skin was smooth and blemish free in a way that seemed unnatural, except perhaps to a creature like the one seated across from him. "I was awake for this. Aware. And you still haven't given me your name, though I offered you mine freely and without expense."

-

Ineal gave a wry smirk. "Very. Uncomfortable to come back from, I will say." He mused, ashing the cigarette's short bit of burn-down. A low hum, and he regarded Rhiel once more. An idle, but not hidden look over. At least the revelation of a scar gave excuse for it. "Mm... Quite the vicious practitioner. And yes, I do apologise. Was concerned about your wellbeing at that moment. Dr. Ineal Silvrean, MD-PhD. Ineal to most, or Doctor Silvrean if you're feeling formal." He offered, smiling with the barest flash of teeth. He presented a four-fingered hand to Rhiel, a kind gesture that somehow didn't carry the expectation of completion, only the offer of their own free will. Ineal _totally_ wasn't influencing him to enhance his calmness. _Not at all. _

"So... Can I ask where you acquired those cigarettes, and, perhaps, if you remember from where you came?" It was a friendly, curious tone, that single eye wide and welcoming.

-

Rhiel noticed the look. He didn't comment on it, but that pale skin did nothing to hide a blush, even at the best of times. There was a subtle pink across his cheeks and nose as he listened, a reaction to his discomfort he wished he could hide. Ineal’s title almost- _almost_\- got a physical flinch out of him. It was hard to suppress it, but he managed. He considered the hand, and didn't even pull back in revulsion. He reached out and accepted the handshake, his own grip firm, even if his palms were currently slightly damp from the stress.

"Well, Ineal. I was at a bar with a friend. It was too much, so I left, and that brought me here. Curious, that, huh?" He held the cigarette out, as if considering it, though of course he knew exactly what it was and where he'd bought it. The name of the drug and its numerical identifier were printed on the filter. "Why I do believe they were purchased from a pharmacy, as, and I did mention, I have a prescription."

-

Ineal wasn't aggressive about the shake. Firm, confident, reassuring in his state. A warm smile, and a nod of encouragement followed. Rhiel's sass, however, earned a pursing of lips and a bemused chuckle. "Mmn... I suppose my questions should be perhaps a bit more specific then, hm? You're not of the plane you're on now... Does the plane you come from have a formal, or informal term used for it?" He tilted his head slightly. Even as he asked that, gears were starting to turn. Cogs were starting to click into place... "And, well, considering you came through a broom closet... I'm going to say that you weren't wholly anticipating the door you walked through to do what it did, then."

-

"I don't know what you'd call the _plane_. Who'd name them? The bar was Mike's and it was on some backwater because Arisa likes to look pretty in front of the yokels and impress them with her ability to like. Punch holes in walls." Rhiel flicked the ash from his cigarette and proceeded to smoke it down to the filter while he weighed Ineal's words. It would be giving away a lot, to respond to that. But the Bliss was in his blood, between the patch and the filter, and there was nothing to protect him from Ineal's calming influence either. But safer, maybe, if he thought it was entirely an accident, and not some power of Rhiel's own. "All right. Maybe not. It might have been supposed to be a bathroom. You're lucky I didn't throw up in your lobby."

-

Ineal quirked both eyebrows up, tilting his head back and forth slowly in an admission. A fair point, few within the plane knew of its own designation. "Sounds like an interesting place to be, at least. I've been to a few bars like that." Still, that black _kretek_ didn't seem to go down all that fast, if anything even slower in spite of the increased number of puffs. A languid smile split his face. "Mm... Well, considering you were, at the time, bordering on alcohol poisoning, maybe it's better you fell into here." He chuckled a bit, blowing the smoke through his nostrils. Combined with the angular features, it almost made him look like a dragon. No doubt he could "breathe" fire, given his little display of pyromancy before. "Seems you sobered up pretty damn quick after, though... Pardon if this comes across crass, but... _What are you, Rhiel?_" The words seemed to resonate. No tone of prejudice, but a question and tone meant to trigger an introspection. The sergal knew exactly what he was doing.

-

"The last man to ask me that question took it upon himself to find the answer on his own. So I think, if you'll pardon me for the language, it's pretty much none of your fucking business," Rhiel purred, hackles raised literally and metaphorically, the crest down his spine standing on end where it was not trapped beneath his clothes. It was plainly visible down the length of his tail. His grasp of the language seemed to be improving as he settled into it, too, but the accent remained consistent. Long vowels. Soft speech like a murmur, even when his tone hardened with mingled affront and fear. "How about a question for a question. I'll show you mine if you show me yours. What the fuck are _you_, Doctor?"

-

Ineal hadn't wholly expected the rebuttal, things seemed to have been going relatively well, then. A slight wince and grimace had him glancing slightly away at the swear. It almost seemed to be a cringe at himself rather than to Rhiel. Maybe he should have invaded his mind properly. No matter, this wasn't lost yet. And, if anything, this might help, given the question he was presented. "I... Am a being out of his time. I predate others of my species by a few thousand years. I am a vampire that has been alive for 8 and a half millennia, counting by my personal time by Earth's time scales. I am a man that has lain with gods and goddesses, died, and risen, seen the rise and fall of empires... Killed many, and achieved a demigod status by some accounts. I... Am who some call Lucifer, some call Jehovah... Though the last group was a bit on the batshit crazy side. So... If you would allow a second chance... Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am a man of wealth and taste."

-

"You are fucking with me, aren't you?" Ineal's words left a bitter taste in Rhiel's mouth that the final bit of his cigarette did nothing to remove. So he pulled out another, and lit that one too. "You know more about me than you let on and you are _fucking with me_, for what? Is it funny? Don't believe what you've heard, maybe?" The Kirinae was on his feet, twitchy again, anxiety rising beneath his skin in an itch that said he could not sit still, could not remain there on the bench where Ineal towered over him even seated. His tail twitched with the agitation, and there was an aggression to the way he smoked, muttered softly under his breath in a tongue that Ineal could not know, but might have heard. Swears, mostly. "Let me guess, you recognize me from the book?"

-

The sergal was genuinely taken aback by the fire spat back. An odd tilt of his head, and a furrowed brow followed. "Mister Rhiel, before you fell into my hospital, I'd never met someone remotely like you. A humanoid that could cross planes like that..." His ears flicked a bit at the muttering. He'd heard it before... _Where?_ Watching Rhiel pace and fidget, he shook his head a bit incredulously. "Book? You're the subject of a book?" The tone couldn't have been faked. He wavered and stuttered a bit as he went, too naturally. Even an actor and glamour artist like him... "Rhiel, please, sit down, I don't know what you're talking about."

-

"Oh, what, and I'm supposed to just believe _all that_, really?" There was a thread of doubt, though. Rhiel didn't sit back down. He might have, if Ineal hadn't asked him to, but there was a spark of defiance lit in his chest that wasn't quite so easily put out. Despite the pace at which he was inhaling the drug, right into his bloodstream almost, it appeared to be having less of an impact by the moment. "That's a lot to swallow, don't you think?"

-

Ineal ticked an eyebrow up. "I don't believe in blind trust, Mister Rhiel. You're encouraged to seek out verification yourself, and I'm all too willing to provide you with proofs as you may ask of them. Perhaps I am a bit of a sucker for flair, but in no way did I use it to embellish or overstate myself. It is, absolutely, a lot to take in at once. However, you asked me what I was, and I gave you my answer as bare as I could. Please. If you have more specific things you want to see of me, ask. It's all I can do to try and help your mind come to ease."

-

"... Gods, you're just so _amicable_, aren't you? With this. Patient little smirk and this attitude..." Rhiel took a long, deep breath of clean air, staring straight at Ineal while a muscle in his jaw twitched. It was some effort, a nearly physical reining in of his emotions, to get himself back to center, back to calm. He was even almost embarrassed for the knee-jerk reaction. "That would just. Make you. Old. Ancient. Maybe older than Mere. They don't... talk about that. And that's. A lot. But you're pretty peculiar, I can grant. Are you even actually smoking that?"

-

Ineal dipped his head. A subtle grimace. "Mister Rhiel, the things I have done in my past haunt my every moment. It is a point of weariness to continue to be so vicious and cavalier with other peoples' lives. It is far easier to be kind and good to people, to help them, than it is to torture, to maim, to _break_ them anymore." He admitted, pursing his lips as he looked up. A bit of a sheepish chuckle. "Indeed, I am ancient by all accounts. My peculiarity is a part of me. As for this cigarette, I have, indeed, been smoking it this whole time." He held it up, giving the side of it a flick. It produced a dull _tok_ sound, akin to a pencil. "I've packed it so tight as to give myself a reasonable smoking time. The compounds aside from the wolfsbane do little for me. Nicotine addictions are a non issue, and cloves, well. I feel in different ways than normal biological beings, so, moot. If I were to smoke a regular cigarette with a lung capacity like mine, I'd kill it in two drags. One if I'm angry." he explained, replacing the cigarette.

-

Ineal's admission of having once done the exact same things that Rhiel was afraid he would do _now_ actually gave the lanky man some comfort. Knowing there was indeed some darkness behind the facade, that Ineal had done terrible things and was simply choosing to no longer do them, was... better. Much better than just wondering what he might be hiding. Ineal could surely see the moment when the kirinae gave up, relaxed a fraction, tail drooping beneath its own weight like it was simply too much effort to continue to hold it up off the ground, and instead it curled around Rhiel's feet.

"All right." Just that, and then Rhiel returned to the bench, perched on the edge of it, watching Ineal sidelong. "I'm the first of my kind. My sister calls them 'Kirinae'. But that doesn't really matter. We're just the templates, not actually... of the species. I'm the son of the gods Chance and Devastation, and god twofold in my own right. That what you wanted to know?"

-

Ineal listened intently as Rhiel spoke, staring more or less forward, but it was clear he was recording and processing the reply more deeply once the man had sat down. And, perhaps, taking relief that he hadn't fucked things up. A slow, lazy breath of smoke out this time, and he furrowed his brow at the revelations. "Kirinae... I've heard that before..." The pronunciation, in spite of having literally just heard it was... Off. And more than an accent could account for. Ineal was good at accents with only a few words heard. A moment later, he stiffened. "... Yours is a language I have been unable to penetrate for centuries. The only one. I have spent countless sleepless fortnights attempting to decipher and commit it to memory, and it will not parse. _**The only. One.**_"

-

"Oh. I mean. That makes sense." Rhiel was startled into a huff of laughter and enough of a grin to show the sharpened points of all of his premolars. Seeing Ineal off his game was... terribly satisfying. Rhiel considered whether or not to even explain. He finished his cigarette and rubbed the stub out against the bench, before tucking it back into the case and pocketing the whole thing. "But maybe you're not trying hard enough." Rhiel mused, and then rattled off a phrase in the language, all smooth and soft, a purr in the ear, liquid fluidity without a pause or a catch in it. It felt good to speak it, like a little prayer to himself. "Or, as you would say in a language you do know, 'it's not for everyone, after all'."

-

Ineal glanced oddly over to Rhiel. Made sense? He tilted his head a bit, swallowing gently. The tables seemed to swiftly turn on him. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His jaw set a bit at the teasing, and he strived to calm himself for a few moments. A slow breath in and out, odd for someone so very, very dead. "Not for everyone, indeed. Taking so long to learn literally nothing... There's something fishy about it." He spoke a bit more measuredly, now. Ineal pinched across his snout, taking a slow breath in and out once more. "At... Any rate. Chance, and Devastation..." He trailed off for a few moments. "... Rhapsody?" He looked over to him, almost incredulous.

-

"Yeah. Mother had a bit of a theme going with the names, I guess," Rhiel snorted, grin broader now. He no longer felt at a disadvantage here, and it was _good_. To not be recognized by _that damn book_, but instead by his blood, that was peculiar, but it was good. So good. Maybe Ineal wasn't bluffing. Maybe he was exactly what he claimed to be. And how fucking wild would that be. If Ineal was honest, that meant Rhiel was not even close to the strangest thing in this courtyard, and the freedom and liberation in that was dizzying. "Rhapsody Fortunat, pirate, bitch, etcetera. We're not on good terms and I doubt we ever will be. I, you see, in addition to being a god, am _a complete fuckup_. Better you know now, just to set that expectation."

-

Ineal broke a smile again, nodding slightly. "I can see that. At least it makes some sense..." He murmured, shifting to sit up a bit more. He'd heard vague tell of another sibling, though never considered the chance of meeting. "... I have... Had run-ins with her in the past. Brief, glancing blows so to speak. I... Can understand why you would wish to distance yourself, actually, irrespective of your status to her..." He cleared his throat once more. "I'm not going to offer you meaningless platitudes to dissuade talk like that. I'm not so foolhardy to be 'that therapist' sitting here."

-

"I mean, yeah, that's for the best, because you're not likely to change my mind, because facts are facts, right." Rhiel shook his head a little, smile self-deprecating, and leaned back against the bench. He was still tense, but not bristling, and that was an improvement, surely. "I'm not exactly fishing for compliments here. I know what I am, _Doctor_. Rhielian Morrigan, god of Deceit and Eternity. I'd say at your service, but ah. I saw you looking earlier. Should hardly invite that sort of attention, should I?"

-

Ineal shrugged. "No, because whatever facts you consider yourself deluded to are yours, but yes, I know I'm not going to change your mind by negating it. Why do you think mental hospitals exist? Takes a lot more than a smack and a word to get someone better." He mused, glancing back over. "God of Eternity... Strange to meet someone older than yourself, then. And, well. Less sizing you up in such ways as that, and more to get a bearing on your body language and stature. Nothing personal, yet. Then again, if you want to invite that sort of attention, I'm hardly above it. Y'know. Reasonable stuff, totally." He flashed a teasing grin. Seems they were on better footing again.

-

"Probably better to not. You seem like a little much, even for me," Rhiel chuckled, then trailed off, gaze wandering out over the gardens thoughtfully. He seemed like he was actually _seeing_ it for the first time, taking it in, and not, thankfully, panicking. Ease was a long way off, but there was no flinching, and the combination of Bliss and Ineal's psychic influence were having the desired impact of drowning the anxiety out. It wasn't a sustainable solution. The amount of sedative he'd taken in the last thirty minutes was enough to put a mortal man into a coma.

"When I first left Alabaster, I injured myself pretty badly. I wanted to die, so I could go back. But they wouldn't let me. But the dead got to Alabaster. I didn't die, clearly. But I ended up in a hospital. Nice. Clean. Kind. They saved my life, even if I wasn't grateful for it at the time, and wouldn't be for many, many years."

-

Ineal shrugged it off, chuckling lowly still. Ah, now he could relax a bit. Sure, whatever dose that Rhiel was on was certainly excessive, at least it was making things tolerable without fighting. "Why... Do I get the feeling that this story is going to take a turn for the viciously dark in just a few moments..." He mused, sitting up once again, and then leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He watched Rhiel, tilting his head a bit to show he was listening.

-

"I mean. Yeah, of course, right? But it has nothing to do with the hospital, not really. I was just going to say... I felt safe there. This feels like it did there, that's all. I still don't trust you as far as I could throw you but. Nice ambiance I guess." Rhiel huffed a laugh and reached up to pick at the edges of the patch on his neck, just a fidget. "It burned. Some mad man, I guess. I didn't get to find out who or why because that's when I found out I could open Doors. Never did go back."

-

Ineal cocked his head. "... Apes a bit of a backhanded compliment, but... I suppose that's a good thing, feeling safe and secure. Don't expect you to trust me blindly yet. Like I said, trust is earned through demonstration of worthiness. What your parameters must be, that is for you to decide." He gave a slow nod. "So... Your coming through our closet was less of an accident than you let on earlier, hm? But... If I may ask, then. If you are so terrified of hospitals as you showed... Why would you choose to come to one to escape a bar where you were a bit overwhelmed?"

-

Rhiel froze a moment, caught out in an admission he had not intended to make. It wasn't often that he let his guard down to make mistakes like this, and rarer still that he shared personal information of his own free will. What _was_ it, that lured him into talking so freely? Rhiel clenched his jaw, mulled over it, but once the admission had been made there was no retracting it. There was only damage control to be done still. "Well. No, not entirely an accident. Only partly. I just wanted to get away and this is where I ended up. Sometimes.... when I'm not entirely in control of myself I'm not entirely in control of myself, right? Logically. I don't pick where the Doors go every time. Not precisely. It's more a hope. A request. And sometimes they fulfill it."

-

Ineal didn't quite realise he'd caught Rhiel in such an intentional lie. Another head tilt of curiosity came, and a purse of his lips. "Well... You were quite drunk. I can see how that might happen. Hm..." He sat back against the bench's back again, staring towards the ground. "Well... What were you hoping, requesting of the cosmos? A shot to your system? To panic somewhere else?" He seemed rather incredulous.

-

"... No. I..." Rhiel was blushing, more than a little, offended by the tone of Ineal's voice, by the disbelief at those possibilities. The tension was back across his shoulders, driving the smaller man to sit up straight, chin tipped up, gathering all the physical presence he had to show that he was _not_ embarrassed, certainly. Ineal had no way of knowing the feeling of panic/fear/terror that had driven him from the crush and the noise and the chaos. "I asked for quiet. For peace. That's why the bathroom-... I was freaking out, about to fall apart, had been for days, and I don't even know why the hell I'm okay now. This is the first time I've been sober in a week. I-it's just been.... a lot. Too much. Everything. I have.... medication I take and.... It's not working, and Mere is pissed at me again so...." Shit. Shit shit shit he was talking and he _could not stop_, could taste the panic again, crawling up his throat like vomit and just as impossible to stop. "How do you DO that?" Plaintive, almost a whine, but he was too busy trying not to break down suddenly and entirely to check the tone of voice.

-

Ineal didn't need a PhD in psychiatry to recognize a spiral like that, and he let out a soft sigh. The begging met Ineal in front of Rhiel. No time seemed to pass between him sitting on the bench and squatting in front of the man. Both hands came to rest on Rhiel's shoulders, not even terribly firm, but certainly in good contact. That lone eye locked into the man's. "Rhiel. I am a vampire. If you think I haven't been influencing you in order to keep you from flipping out and destroying everything around you in a blind panic, you underestimate me. This doesn't negate the prior statements, and I was not doing it to harm you." He spoke calmly, but relatively quickly. A light tug to him had Rhiel tight against his notably cool body, in... Most definitely an embrace. "Now... Breathe." He instructed after a beat, pulling Rhiel a bit closer into him.

-

The movement made the smaller man flinch, but before he could pull away, there were Ineal's hands, heavy on his shoulders, not restraining or confining but definitely encouraging him to remain still. A shudder ran through him, all the way down to the tip of his lashing tail, and he focused on the sound of Ineal's voice to keep his own tide of thoughts at bay. _Influencing_. It was such a kind word for the act, and later, maybe, he'd be pissed about it. But there was a danger in anger now that Rhiel knew well- he was too close to the edge. Anger would burn his blood clean and send him off to do something terrible, dangerous, and stupid. But the sudden shift threw him off the track he'd been travelling, and derailed the panic attack before it could begin.

He had the self control still to pull back from the anger, to meet Ineal's gaze instead and tremble beneath those strong hands like a horse run exhausted. And then... he was folded against a firm chest, arms around him, in a snug embrace that he might have protested if not for that very simple order. Such a small thing. But having instructions to follow meant he didn't have to think for himself. That was why Teagan had always- well. That was a trail of thought best left untraveled. He drew a deep breath, on a count of five, and exhaled to the same. Twice. And again. And his hands came up to press against Ineal's chest, not a rejection, but maybe a barrier. The simple act of touch, outside of a sexual context, was something Rhiel both craved and feared. "You fucker," he muttered, but there was no venom in the words. Not yet.

-

Ineal cracked the barest hint of a smile. It was gentle contact, just barely resting his hand on the back of the man's skull to keep him in place. "I've been working in this field for decades... I have a few tricks up my sleeve to keep people doing better than they think they could've in the situation." He chuckled slightly at the curse at him. "Just keep breathing. In and out... That same cadence." He spoke with a slow, metered pace. The hold against his chest was not unexpected, and the gentle pull on Rhiel's back was very clearly only meant to override the man's surprise, and not hold him in should he push away. "Like I said... You're welcome to stay. You're welcome to take our drugs here in treatment. You're welcome to run away from here and never look back. But for your sake, I hope you consider staying here... You're an alright guy. I wanna see you do better than you say you have."

-

"You should know what happened to the last man who held me against my will," Rhiel muttered, in the traces of his fear. He had no illusions that accepting Ineal's offer would be anything easy. The smell of antiseptic made him sick. The thought of needles, knives, drugs, all filled him with terror. But there was knowing, too, that sometimes what you feared was something you needed. It was the same thing that let him befriend Felicia, medic, and pushed him through the door to Mere's clinic despite all he'd endured beneath their hand. Nothing unneeded, but oh, that trauma ran deep. The hospital smell clung to Ineal even out here, under the sun and in the sweet breezes. There was no forgetting what he was. "But you... you I couldn't defend myself against, could I? That doesn't happen. Not ever." Breathe. Ineal had said to breathe. Deep and slow and steady. But oh, underneath it all, he was so afraid. Afraid of Ineal, of this place, but also, afraid that no matter what work was done, he simply wouldn't ever get better.

-

Ineal cracked a slightly weak smile. "Good thing I'm not asking you to stay against your will... I won't hold any responsibility for you if you choose to leave at any point before a treatment course is finished." He half admonished. Still, he could feel the undercurrent of anxiety. This close, he didn't even need to probe. It practically poured off the man. He softened more. "Rhiel... Let me tell you something... I'm a vampire. I'm undead and functionally immortal, sure..." He leaned in a bit, dropping his voice. "Silver still works. I still can't enter someone's abode without permission. Hell, I can't enter their mind if they tell me to get out. If you can find religious artifacts from early civilizations, they'll still harm me. Put a stake through my heart and cut my head off, I'm very permanently dead." He bared all. Hardly a reminder with the flagrant revelation of his state as a vampire, but still. "You... Are a god above me, technically. Regard me as a demigod, but I was forged in flesh and ascended. Take with that what you will."

-

"That's..... honest," Rhiel muttered, startled enough to lift his head and squint up at Ineal. He still wasn't pulling away. He could tell himself it was because Ineal was physically stronger than him, but the truth was simply that it felt _nice_. Calming. Safe. Even if he didn't trust Ineal, he didn't think that the other man would hurt him like this. No, he seemed more the type to win Rhiel's trust, first, and then enact some act of cruel depravity when he was unsuspecting. And somehow, that was comforting. "I am still having a hard time with 'vampires are real', and apparently.... fuzzy. Not how they write them in books."

-

Ineal pursed his lips in a "yep" sort of expression, nodding a bit. Not pulling away, but Ineal still didn't pull him in, either. The odd waves of calm starting to come off of Rhiel were... Disconcerting, but he took it where he could get it. A pause, and a sputter of laughter. "Christ on a bike... Which was quite funny to watch, I might add..." He finally pulled a bit away, but didn't release Rhiel. "One, no, we're not all fuzzy. Vampirism is an affliction, not a species. Two... Well. There's some truth in books. The old, _oooolder_ ones are good... Except for the sunlight bit." He pointed in the air. Indeed, it was sunny. "A well fed vampire has no issue with sun for a few days in a row. A bit of a headache and some sunburn. Just makes it impossible to use the shadows to recover yourself by transformation, wisping, or shadowrunning. But, well. Here I am. I'll turn a nurse if you want me to."

-

"No, I don't... need proof. I've seen enough strange to accept new things when I meet them," Rhiel demurred, smiling just the faintest shade of a smile. He shifted away from Ineal with the loosening of the embrace, made aware of it, of his freedom to pull away, and of the disquiet under his skin at the physical contact. He craved it. He didn't dare ask for it. He felt greedy accepting it. Sometimes, Arisa would simply appear, inflict herself upon him, demand a snuggle, but that was. Complicated. In ways that made him ache down into his bones. "You sneak into the bedrooms of pretty young mortal men and women and seduce them with your vast charm and supernatural allure, too?"

-

Ineal huffed a bit at the refusal. A shame. There were a couple of nurses that were quite interested in being turned. He shrugged a bit, waiting for that next question. Another snerk of amusement, and he finally moved back onto the bench. "One, those days are long gone, and two... You think I had to actively seduce anyone? Gods. One, plenty of satanists that were eager to literally fuck satan, and two, people have found allure in vampires for centuries. I didn't need to be sneaky and underhanded, I had people lining up like so many capri suns at most points. The rest of the time I just hunted normally. Pull people off the streets, make them forget what happened. I can feed without turning someone, anyway."

-

Some of the metaphor went right over Rhiel's head- what the hell was a 'capri sun', maybe people outdoors in short pants? But he listened all the same, and even laughed a little. Not the snort of amusement, not the condescending chuckle, but a startled little bit of actual laughter, hands raised in a gesture of concession. "All right. I can buy that. Hard to imagine you fitting through a window anyway. Or.... getting up there in the first place, but that's a judgement based on anatomy and not a critique of your potential physical prowess." The god tried on a smile, and though it was weak it was genuine. He was clearly trying very hard to distract himself from himself.

-

Ineal was almost caught by the laugh, himself, but rolled on through until he was done. "Well, hey. That whole thing about wisping, bats, shadowrunning... And, well." He cleared his throat, and, a moment later, visibly seemed to rise a few inches. Both feet kicked out in front of him. "You know, I _can_ fly." He reminded, feigning stretching out before settling back down to a reasonable level. "But, hey. My actual, real, honest to god... No pun intended... Physical prowess is nil. I'm a dead body. What you're seeing is glamour. I'm a goddamn walking skeleton."

-

"That's. Well. That's something. Okay. That's a way to get over your physical limitations." Rhiel didn't stare, quite. Almost. It was impressive. And another reminder of the ways that, without worship, without the line of power from Tirranath, Rhiel was himself little more than a very resilient piece of meat that so far had refused to die. "Is this what you used to look like, then? Mere, my.... doctor," Rhiel faltered, almost called Mere a friend, but.... it was hard to say if they were or not. It was hard to say much about Mere at all, "They're made of Shadow, no real physical form, just kind of made one up."

-

Ineal chuckled, nodding. "Just about everything I do is a form of magic. I'm barely a husk underneath all this." The sergal chuckled and waved a hand about vaguely dismissively. "Mm, yes. I was turned in my mid 30s, so I just sort of kept that look. I could completely alter myself. Look like whatever I want, but that takes much more energy than a constant, consistent form." He gave a slow nod at the description of Mere. "Far from the only being to lack a corporeal, consistent form. I won't make guesses." He paused, then smiled. "Ah, right, since I'm sure you're going to be curious..." He turned his upper body to face Rhiel more directly. A swipe of his hand across the face and... _Oh dear lord._ Gaunt, drab, thin fur cling to the sergal's face, the outline of his skull very clear beneath the paper-thin looking skin. His eye held heavy, wrinkled bags beneath it, though curiously, the area immediately around his still-closed eye seemed still relatively youthful. What relatively thin lips he had normally were sunken back, revealing... Well. The teeth were still pearly white, and viciously filling of his mouth. Huh. A swipe back, and he looked normal once again. "Only you saw that, mind. I'm not soo foolhardy to cause a mass panic."

-

Rhiel looked curious, but not repulsed. There was a slight frown pulling pale brows together as he considered Ineal and the truth and honesty he'd shown in that action. In all of his actions so far, really- save for one. Rhiel had no doubts that Ineal was still using his charm to keep the smaller man calm, but Rhiel knew an empath, too, who was known to do exactly the same thing. And when _he_ did it, Rhiel was grateful, not angry. He tucked one black thumbnail between his teeth and worried at it slightly. Most of his nails were chewed down to the quick already, ragged and blooded. Whatever trick of biology had purged the alcohol from his blood apparently did not extend to helping out with _all_ things. "I don't know what Mere is, either. But I can see why you'd hide yourself. Handsome enough to keep your own original face, anyway."

-

The sergal had, really, eased back on that effect. Certainly there was, for lack of a better term, a miasma about him that helped things passively, but he certainly wasn't focusing on that at the moment. A purse of his lips, and Ineal studied that hand slightly. Gods there would be a lot to unpack here. He let out a snort of amusement at the response to his appearance. "_Gee, thanks._" He said, still chuckling to make clear the sarcasm was jovial, at least. "So... I understand if you haven't made a decision, but... If you have, or when you do..." He pulled a small (relatively) business card from his breast pocket, presenting it to Rhiel with a soft _fwip_. "The reception area is nothing like a hospital's, more like a nice hotel. Show this to the receptionist, they'll show you to my office."

-

"There _was_ a compliment in there." _Somewhere_. Rhiel's lips twitched into a smirk, and he left off gnawing on his nails to reach out and accept the card. He turned it over in his fingers, felt the texture of the paper. Nice, but not showy. Professional. As much confidence as Ineal exuded, he didn't come across as _arrogant_. Aside from the dress sense, there was little to remind him of the other doctor, the other place. It helped. "I can't just up and vanish on Arisa. Let me... Let me think it over. And talk to Mere. They might have heard of you."

-

Ineal chuckled. "I know, I know... I wouldn't expect as such. I'll be disappointed if you don't return, but I will not hold it against you or berate you. There is not a small chance they may have heard of me, as well." He smiled a bit, clearing his throat slightly. Slowly, he began to stand, and offered a hand to Rhiel to help him up. "I won't hold you here any longer than I have to, anyway. Let's get you back somewhere you know, hm?" He cocked his head back towards the entryway. "Any door to any door works, right?"

-

"Easier if you can't see through it but... Yeah. Any door." Rhiel sounded uncomfortable about it, but he accepted the hand all the same. Gods, if he could divorce the smell of the hospital from Ineal's appearance--and the cloying coat of clove helped with that--, the man was damned attractive through personality alone, never mind the strength in his hand. Rhiel couldn't keep the disgruntled noise entirely internal, a soft distressed sound at this betrayal of his own body and mind, which did nothing to ease his discomfort. "Technically it's any entryway to any entryway, but a physical door is easier. I think it's like how magic ritual makes spells use less power." Babbling. Excellent. Perfect.

-

Ineal nodded, beckoning for Rhiel to continue following him, moving slowly until he could catch up. "Well, there are plenty of completely solid doors within the campus, won't be long to find one." He smiled reassuringly. His tail swayed idly as he walked, following his hips for the most part, with its tip serving the "expressive" part, twitching and flicking about. "Ah, the days of ritual... I haven't had to use my eye for that in... A long, long while." The sergal mused as he approached the automatic doors, the glass swishing open once again, almost silently. "Come, come. I'll get back to my rounds while you're discussing things."

-

"You sound so sure it won't take long. They might tell me not to come back at all," Rhiel murmured, trying to be offended but he just didn't have the energy for it. In the wake of the panic and fear he was abruptly very tired and very hungry all in one. Luckily, he was always equipped for one of these things. He dug into his pants pocket, where he kept his cigarettes, and emerged with an individually wrapped high calorie protein bar, of the type usually consumed by workout enthusiasts. Nothing about Rhiel said he worked out much if at all. "The eye you have or....? Am I missing something about the one you're missing?"

-

Ineal gave an idle shrug as he crossed the threshold of the hospital, glancing back at the crinkling of a wrapper. Already..? Oh, no. A snack. Hm. The question perked his ears, and he gave almost a giggle. "Right. I haven't..." He trailed off, turning to look back at Rhiel with the right side of his face. The previously closed eye slowly slid open. At first, it was hard to tell there was anything there, the glassy object within so black as to appear as the void. A moment later, though, the full opening revealed quite the object. Obsidian within appeared flecked with stars, and... Were they moving? A Galaxy swirled within, just visible before he closed it again. "We'll say you were missing something."

-

Rhiel stopped when Ineal did, curious enough to linger for whatever the man had to show him. It was worth the pause. It was almost worth the trip. Ineal's obsidian eye was as unsettling as it was beautiful. A captivating and subtle display of magical construction that made his fingers itch to brush over that closed eyelid. It stunned Rhiel speechless for a moment, a rare feat indeed. It nearly distracted him from his discomfort, questions bubbling in the back of his mind. Maybe, just maybe, Ineal was no braggart. Maybe he was exactly what he claimed, down to the last letter. It didn't seem quite so farfetched. Nearly, but not quite. "Oh. I suppose I was. That's something remarkable there, isn't it?"

-

Ineal cracked what was starting to seem like his trademark grin, turning back and continuing to lead the momentarily awestruck man. Most were intrigued but few seemed quite so captivated. "Don't worry. I don't tend to open it long. Keeping it in and open tends to mean things are either getting messy or will be soon. Literally or otherwise." He sighed a bit. Even that brief opening, he could feel the ichor welling behind it. Frivolity was frowned upon perhaps. "Gifts of the gods tend to be remarkable, though, yes. A memento of our... Time together."

-

"That sounds suggestive," Rhiel muttered, with a small snort of laughter. He was drawn to magic like a moth to a flame. Not that Ineal could know, or should. He considered the rest of the statement more quietly, and more seriously. He didn't think any gift _he_ might bestow would be particularly remarkable. All he had to offer were the lies that tripped off his tongue as easily as breathing. "You're a strange man, aren't you?"

-

"Depending on the day and person, it could be beyond suggestive." He replied casually, his grin wry once again. A shame Ineal wasn't probing for once. Oh well. Plenty of time in the future, he was sure enough. Rhiel's observation earned a bark of laughter from the taller one's angular face, wholly distinct from his usual, deep and mellowing voice. This was... Airy, bordering on shrill. He settled quickly, pausing a moment to decide whether to let his true voice through in response. Oh, what the hell. "To say I am strange wouldn't be the half of it, Mister Rhiel. You know much of my background but there is much still you have yet to find out." He cleared his throat, the smoky, deep voice returning. "But, hey. We're not all like that. Don't let that scare you off."

-

"Could it." Not a question, not really. Rhiel's mouth twitched into half a smile before the smell of the hospital caught up to him, left him queasy and unsteady. It was fortunate that Ineal was so distracting, at that exact moment. Rhiel's ears might have perked, had he any that could do so. He half startled at the sound of Ineal's voice all the same, considered asking, and chose not to. "That. Could be said to be true for anyone, couldn't it?" There was a door nearby, surely. Yes. That one. It seemed to lead to a bathroom. That was fine. How fitting, really, considering what door had led him here. "This has been... interesting."

-

Ineal snickered at the rhetoric from Rhiel. "Mmn, it could be, yes. But perhaps few as true as for me." He paused, catching Rhiel's look at the bathroom door. He chuckled again. "Apropos." He mused, stopping and standing on the inside opening side of the door, so he'd be blocked from view when it was opened. "Indeed it has. I'm sure we'll be in touch from some reason or another." He nodded, implicit permission to leave.

-

Rhiel took the dismissal for what it was, and laid his hand on the doorknob. He could have snarked back, inquired what made Ineal so damn sure of himself, but the contact with the door was enough to steal his breath, magic leaping to be used, begging for an outlet. There was so much of it, under his skin, all the time, a battery of power with so little outlet. He let it go, let violet light trace the outline of the door before he opened it with a soft noise of delight and pleasure, and stepped right on through. He didn't bother with a backwards glance. The door closed neatly behind him, with no residue of what it had been or where it had gone.


	2. Crawling Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhiel was *very* strongly encouraged to return to the Institute for help. What good friends, he has!

Rhiel was prepared when he returned, but it wasn't out of his own efforts. Oh no. The bag slung over his shoulder held his essentials--clothes, toiletries, a slim VisScreen, his comm, and things of that nature--had been packed by Arisa nearly the instant that he had explained Ineal's offer to her. Joking remarks about her desire to be rid of him hadn't been met by the same levity. Arisa was strongly of the opinion that he needed this, and Rhiel tried not to let that sting. She wasn't trying to be hurtful. She cared. Still. He was more keenly aware of all his raw edges in the wake of that conversation, and the ways they didn't quite fit together, and how that must affect those around him. It wasn't a subject he enjoyed contemplating.

Also in the bag was a container full of medication. Specifically, his prescriptions, along with a detailed packet on their uses, reasons for prescribing, dosages, and a detailed copy of his medical history. This one was a gift from Mere, his physician, who had all but kicked him out the door when he had mentioned seeking some sort of more organized and structured help.

He was still stinging a little when he opened the Door between his apartment and the Institute. He hadn't bothered to discuss it with anyone else. Mere and Arisa's disbelief and then awe and then insistence had been enough.

He'd dressed comfortably for the trip- soft shoes instead of boots, a thick, lavender wool sweater over jeans. He looked younger, like this. His hair, shoulder length, was half pulled back from his face, which showed the dividing line between the white upper layer and the black at the nape quite starkly. It also pulled his hair tight enough to see the small nubs of growing horn just behind his temples.

Rhiel fingered the card that Ineal had given him and sighed. Odds were good the energy of his arrival was enough to alert the vampire, but he'd been asked to show the card to the receptionist, and so, he strode to the front desk, put on his most charming and innocent expression, and offered it to her. “I'm here to see Dr. Silvrean. He should be expecting me.”

All in all, the hospital maybe wasn't so bad after all. Or maybe that was the sedatives talking.

-

And, indeed, Ineal could feel that shimmer of energy ripple out from the door a few floors below him. A smirk crossed his face. Luckily, he had just recently finished with another patient, and the paperwork was nearly done. A few final notes and signatures, and the paperwork went through the scanner to be digitised and added to their file. A brief swipe of his monitor had him watching the camera feed from the lobby, and indeed, there was Rhiel, just offering the card over.

The receptionist was equally pleasant, soft spoken and friendly all in one. They knew what they were doing when they hired, no doubt. She perked up as he approached, giving a reassuring nod as she took the card. Ah, one of the co-director's personal invitations. "Just a moment, please, sir..." The receptionist shifted over to her own computer. A quick schedule check earned a nod and a wide smile from her. She offered the card back. "He should be ready for you, sir! Just tap that card on the pad below the elevator's call button and it will take you up to his floor. His office number is on the card for you." She gestured over to the elevators nearby, the only ones with the shiny black scanner pad below their call buttons.

-

Rhiel resisted the urge to try and flirt with the receptionist, but only just. It wasn't a good first impression to make, was it, should it come back to Ineal? She needn't even be pretty- it was just so satisfying to watch the flattery sink in and transform a person's face. And so efficient, too. He settled for offering her another sweet smile, only about half artifice, and a very heart-felt "Thank you, miss," before hiking his bag further up his shoulder and heading in the direction indicated. He felt exposed, without his coat, his boots, his knives, but Arisa and Mere had both agreed- it was normal, casual clothes for this, and they'd burn the rest if he resisted.

Finding the elevator was no difficult task- it was, after all, right where she'd said it would be, and not far besides. He wasn't sedated enough to lose his way in that short a distance. He brushed the card against the reader, pocketed it, and stepped inside when the doors whooshed open, with extra care to make sure that the full length of his tail made it inside with him. That was a mistake you made exactly once. The elevator trip was brief, but still, by the end of it, he could feel the humming of his pulse beneath his skin, a nervous energy making it through to tense his shoulders and straighten his posture, a stress and worry combination he wasn't sure if he could blame on the elevator and the painful memories attached to such a contraption, on the place, with its antiseptic smell, or on Ineal himself.

In either case, he was glad to get out of it. That at least took one thing off the list. It didn't help, but it _could_ have, and somehow, that meant something. Rhiel stepped out of the elevator when the door _ding_ed and popped back open again, and braced himself to meet the doctor, in a far more official capacity than he had before.

-

Ineal had watched Rhiel all the way to the elevator, his timing impeccable as he shuffled the scanned documents into their holding try. The sergal rose slowly, nary a creak coming from the under-stressed office chair, oversized as it was to fit his frame. He straightened his suit down, cinching his tie properly up before slowly striding across the room. If he timed it right... Yes, excellent. He filled out the notably oversized door frame just as the elevator _bing_ed its arrival. A subtle grin split his face, and he stepped a bit more proud of the doorway, and into the hallway. His hands were held behind his back... He resisted the urge to give a smug smile to Rhiel as he came into view, instead holding a genuinely pleasant, inviting one. "Glad to see you're back, Mister Rhiel... Please, come in."

-

Rhiel bristled instinctively, waiting for the smarm, the "I told you so", but he was bracing for something that wasn't to come. If Ineal felt anything of the sort, he was hiding it well. The lanky man hesitated in the hall, bag still slung over his shoulder, but Ineal was as pleasant and welcoming as before, he could see nothing dangerous or untoward in the office from where he stood. He had some sense of confidence that he'd be able to open a Door out of here if he needed to. Hopefully. Even though Ineal knew about his ability and could surely prevent him if he wanted.

Rhiel drew a deep breath to scatter the paranoid thoughts before the stress itself was enough to purge the drugs keeping him from screaming. He answered Ineal's smile with one of his own, artificial but well-practiced, and accepted the invitation into the office, stepping past the Sergal into the smaller space. "I, ah. Talked it over with my people. Mere seemed to recognise your name from somewhere. You know a Dr. Aust? Small, pale, weird? Kind of a monster in a human suit. Not that you'd know anything about that, right?"

-

Ineal caught that bristle. It was a good thing he repressed that urge, he figured. A small nod as he stepped back into the room, out of Rhiel's way. The place was pleasant. A bit of a hodgepodge of design languages, rather modern for his desk, albeit still made of what appeared to be heavy mahogany. Adorning it was little in the way of carving on the front, a simple moulding around the perimeter. Atop it sat a small filing stack, as well as an inlaid computer projecting its screen into the air. On the right, a wall of nothing but bookshelves, reminiscent of Victorian era libraries, although the smattering of books came from all sorts of eras, from leather-bound tomes of centuries past to modern fibreboard hardcovers. The exception came as the door between his and Atamori's office, breaking up the rows nearer to his desk.

Opposite that sat... What could best be described as a clean, but very distinctly stoner's couch. Slightly worn, a bit higher than usual, but unmistakably something you would find in that one friend's basement you used to go smoke pot with when you were 14, and inevitably pass out on because _goddamn it's so comfy_. (Actually, if you were to get close enough to it, a faint whiff of pot _could_ be detected.) Of note was that everything save for the couch seemed... Big. The books were normal sized, for the most part, but the desk, the bookshelves, the whole room was taller, and a little broader than usual. Ineal seemed... Normal sized in it.

As Rhiel moved in and asked his question, he chuckled a bit. As soon as he'd catch a glimpse of the sergal's face... A distinctly serpentine tongue, nearly a foot long, slithered out of his maw for a moment, before he began to speak revealing his decidedly non-serpentine, though still forked, tongue within. "Dr. Aust... That name is deeply familiar... I... Believe we went to the same medical school, same class year. Hm... It doesn't surprise me they might know my name. I've... Been around." He chuckled, slowly padding around to settle into his chair. It barely seemed to react to his weight. He gestured to the couch, then to a rolling office-style chair tucked in the corner of the room. It looked quite cushy as well.

-

Rhiel watched Ineal with a low grade but constant sense of wariness. His tail flicked, always a tell-tale sign of his every emotion, no matter how he tried to mask them. The office was not at all what he'd expected. Not even remotely. This... disorganised hodge-podge of styles and eras was nothing at all like the pressed and pristine image that Ineal presented. But seeing the Sergal there, knowing what he _did_ know, it made a kind of sense. This was the ephemera of long-living. This was not having to choose a style because _fuck you, look at these beautiful things_. It was so humanising (_personising?_) that Rhiel felt the beginnings of a touch of... what, empathy? He wasn't as old as Ineal, but he was still older than the average mortal creature, and he had all of eternity to look forward to. It was, after all, his domain.

The tongue, _that_ got a startle out of him, enough to break the reverie and draw his attention back to the man in front of him and not the quietly unnerving symbolism in his mis-matched office furniture. Like. The couch. He gave it a dubious look when Ineal gestured to it, considered the chair instead. But the couch did look comfortable, and refusing to sit on it meant he had to go to the chair and move it away from the wall, and that was kind of a whole show in and of itself, wasn't it? Both were statements. Rhiel opted to sink into the couch, without even the awkwardness of perching on the edge of it. He let his bag slither from his shoulder and onto the floor at his feet, and tried not to feel naked in these soft, thin clothes. He was so far outside his comfort zone he couldn't even see it anymore, but the sedatives were keeping the panic at bay successfully, letting him deal with and cope with things on his own time and his own terms. "Why doesn't that surprise me? You ancient fucks, brooding with each other, menacing, and whatever else it is you do when you're bored with life and you have to find a way to keep it spicy."

-

Ineal slowly settled back, the chair finally creaking as he pushed back into a more comfortable recline. A mix of fine leather and the mechanism lent a deeper almost moan like quality to the furniture's sound. "Yes, good, please, be comfortable. People question why that couch is here... And it's not for my own benefit." He chuckled a bit. "Too low for me anyway, may as well sit on the floor. _The old hips don't take kindly to it, don'cha know._" A slow draw of breath, and he let it slide out much more quietly. Were Rhiel paying attention, it would be the first and last breath he'd take in a while. The sergal ran his fingers through his short head hair, sliding to the back of his head and rubbing gently at it... Where did his muzzle stop and forehead begin, really?

The hand came back down after a few rubs, and slowly he crossed his leg up over its counterpart's knee. He hoped the hyperbolic sarcasm wouldn't be lost. After all. Vampires worried not about arthritic pains or anything of the sort... Healing factors tended to make that obsolete.

The spat of vague insults didn't seem to faze the old man, in fact, it earned a chuckle. "Absolutely. When we're being antagonistic to society as a whole rather than working for the betterment like I am now... Well, let's not talk about the 1960s and the CIA, shall we?" He cleared his throat a bit awkwardly. "But, hey, We really did graduate at the same time... I'd like to meet up with her again sometime, come to think of it." he hummed a bit to himself, then waved his hand in the air dismissively. "Bah, not the point. Point is, you were able to make it back here and I'm very, very glad... And relieved. You deserve some chance to recover from the sounds of things."

-

"_Her_-?" Rhiel sounded absolutely incredulous, a snort of laughter escaping before he could stop himself. "Mere's not a _woman_." He sounded so sure at the start of the sentence, but the assurance died by the end of it. If Ineal knew them then... Did Ineal know something he didn't? No. Of course not. Ludicrous. There was obviously another explanation. "I mean, not that I think they'd care a whole lot either way but...." It was good to have something else to focus on. It helped. It even kept him from snarking for a moment.

Instead, he bent and reached down into the bag at his feet, and pulled out a Ziploc baggie of bottles, patches, and paperwork. There was a thick file to accompany it. Rhiel had glanced through it enough to be uncomfortable handing it over, but if Mere trusted this man... What else could he do? What he had been doing wasn't working anymore. He couldn't continue. But these... These were x-rays, details of the brain surgery he'd had, information on his blood and his body chemistry. It was every secret he'd ever been afraid might be used against him, and here he was, offering it up on a platter. There it was again, the fine tremor to his hands. He set the file down in his lap and smoothed it carefully, despite the lack of folds or creases. "Mere said you'd want this."

-

Ineal slowly quirked an eyeridge at Rhiel's incredulity. "Well, I suppose if they've transitioned..." He seemed to be conscious to change the pronouns. "... But at the time I last knew them, they were very much presenting as such." He cleared his throat a bit awkwardly, shifting in his seat. Well, that wasn't obvious. "Though, you have a point. They always struck me as a somewhat fluid type, at least... Bah, irrelevant now. Going by masculine identities now? Or just... Neutral?" He asked as he reached forward, his long arm just barely reaching from the desk to take it.

Slowly, he slipped it out, tilting his head in thanks. "Seems like they were right... This will be quite helpful..." He mused, slowly starting to read over the first page of the medication lists, then to the pill bottles themselves. Shifting, he sat more properly in his chair, setting the bag onto the desk and starting to sift through it. A pause, and he pulled a drawer on his desk open, slipping a pair of nitrile gloves on. The x-ray sheets came out next, and he held them up to the light. Ineal's expression shifted a bit more serious the further he went through. These were quite serious procedures... And potentially ones he'd need to reverse in time. "One of these days I'll develop an x-ray film that doesn't use silver." He mused, sliding them back into the bag. "... Is that file to go with these as well?"

-

"Mere is.... I don't really know. They're just Mere. Merely." Rhiel paused to huff a laugh at his own joke, but it didn't take the edge off at all. He took a deep breath and carried on as if he wasn’t handing Ineal all the secrets that had ever been used to hurt him. Mere's notes were thorough. Dosages, rates of healing, resistances, chemical levels and more. The prescriptions were mostly in a similar vein: sedatives, mood stabilisers, and tranquillisers, all human medications in absurd dosages. In among the top shelf pharma there were also smaller glass bottles, labelled by hand, and a nasal spray, covered in neat, tiny letters in a common galactic script. These, according to Mere's notes, were hormones and pheromones synthesised by an apothecary to Rhiel's specific biology. Of all the medications listed, these were the only ones that Mere indicated should not, under any circumstances, be discontinued.

The x-rays told a curious story, a buildup of scar tissues in the brain, healed damage that should, by all rights, have left Rhiel a vegetable, had he ever recovered at all. There were other x-rays, too, of his torso, showing the location of bones healed slightly out of alignment, a bullet lodged into the joint of his right shoulder, another in his hip, and a speckle of black that seemed to suggest shrapnel. There was also something curious about the alignment of his sternum, that seemed to agree with the scar visible above the neckline of his shirt. But outwardly, he masked any sign of discomfort quite, quite well.

"It is. It's all the... Notes and details and..." Rhiel drew a deep breath and leaned forward to place the file on Ineal's desk, sacrificing it in an act like ripping off a bandage. Once it was out of his hands he could feel his heart rate rising, and drew calming breaths, counting down in his head and intentionally not looking when Ineal inevitably picked up the file. "I didn't know x-rays had silver in them. To what purpose?" He asked instead, enough of an aside to keep him calm, but not so out of the blue as to be an obvious escape.

-

The sergal _snerk_ed a bit, himself, baring teeth slightly as he leaned back once again, still sliffing through the x-rays in the light. Sitting up once more, he picked up some of the pill bottles. A few openings and squintings of his eyes, and the brief perch of half-moon spectacles on his face as he deciphered the script. "Gods, they made it universal, but fuck if I read it often..." He muttered, seeming all the more... Domestic. Like your dad with his glasses sat on the edge of his nose trying to read the instructions on your new toy. Somehow, in spite of the doses and instructions being outlandish, he didn't seem to flinch.

He glanced up over those glasses as the file was slid onto his desk, slowly setting down the pill bottles and taking the sheaf of paper. Again, slowly, he leafed through them. The expression seemed to remain relatively neutral, perhaps instilling the anxiety of a parent reading a report card. His ears perked to the offhand question. "Silver is the predominant chemical in x-ray film, and a lot of old black and white film, that reacts with light. The first Terran photography took place with a silver solution in a... Milk bottle, if I recall." He mused, smiling a bit for a moment. A few more leafings through. "... Were you in an explosion?" He asked, straight out. He hoped to catch Rhiel off guard with it, especially with the brief pause between his explanation and the question.

-

"Oh- kind of." Ineal's tactic was effective, apparently. Rhiel was still processing the answer to his own question when he replied, the words tripping off his tongue without any time to check them. He didn't flinch after he realised what he'd said. Not quite. He suppressed that reaction. "Grenades explode, don't they? Teagan was upset. Not- he was upset _about_ it, he didn't..." With no file folder to fidget with, he simply twined long fingers together and his tail twitched like an irritable cat. The pauses, the time spent reading his file, even the turning of the pages, all served to ratchet his stress levels higher,

"I was a mercenary. I didn't... have a great sense of self-preservation at the time. I didn't really care _what_ happened to me, and because of that, I got into a lot of scrapes. Teagan did what he could but you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved, can you? But that's... actually how we met. I hated him. And the feeling was mutual." He laughed a little, just a huff of a thing, bubbled up from a place of stress and not one of amusement. It had the faintest edge of hysteria in it, just flavouring, not yet concerning. "I know that's not what you asked me about. And I don't think that's what you wanted out of that question either, is it?"

-

Ineal glanced back up, more intensely to the man. "... Yes. Yes they do. They are, in fact, explosive devices." He leaned back slowly, pursing his lips and crossing his legs again. "I understand. You weren't assaulted by this person with a grenade." He nodded affirmatively, resting the file on his lifted leg so he could still look through it without Rhiel having to stare at each page flitting by.

"... Ah. That would explain a few things. Immortals rarely do have a sense of self preservation. I'm... Actually quite surprised this has all lingered inside you, if I'm honest. A loss of corporeal form would, in theory, reset this. But, well. That's why I'm not a god, now isn't it?" He chuckled. "Ah, but that is a point I am all too familiar with. Remember how I said I wouldn't keep you here, not without your permission? Two reasons. One, for your comfort and reassurance. Two, because it is absolutely pointless for me to. I'm not in the business of Stockholm-syndrome-ing patients into complacency and integration. I'm in the business of fixing and helping patients adjust on their own."

He smiled more reassuringly over those glasses. "And, for the record... It's exactly what I wanted out of that question. Whatever you tell me and let spill out is valuable for me to build information and figure out how we're going to work towards your improving health." He set the file back on the desk. "So... If you'd like, we can keep talking here, you can chance getting more wound up... Or, I can help you get properly registered, get a room set up, show you around the place. Your call."

-

"I guess... the latter?" Rhiel already didn’t like how raw he felt beneath Ineal's steady gaze over the top of those half-moons of glass. And how much of _that_ was an affectation, he wondered. Rhiel himself wore reading glasses, but Rhiel wasn't... _whatever_ Ineal claimed to be. Vampire. He'd done a little reading, and none of it had been enlightening. It all spoke of vampires as if they were a myth, no matter how scholarly and reputable the source. If he'd still had his implant, Rhiel surmised, he'd have all the information he could want on the subject, in a moment, in a breath, in a thought. But there was no sense dwelling on that. Just the memory of it made his head ache and his gorge rise.

"And for the record, I can't just... _discorporeate_, you realise. If I could, I would have, a long time ago. We're not... ideas or thoughts. We're living creatures, physical bodies. I was born of Devastation and Chance, and I am Deceit and Risk by blood, Eternity by station. I would die without faith but it would be a physical death. It sustains me, it doesn't create me. Or I wouldn't have... scars, or... or a _mood disorder_ or... you think I would _choose_ this body, really?" Rhiel laughed again, rising to pick up his bag, so that they might make their way toward the door. "And if you tell _anyone_ anything I've told you, or anything that's in that file, Doctor, I... I might be a young god, but age isn't everything."

-

Ineal smiled more, nodding and slowly rising from his desk. He smoothed his suit down again, and cinched the tie up, almost as if out of reflex than his own vanity. The glasses, really, could have been dispensed with, he'd just never bothered to let his good eye heal itself in the shift. Really, he _could_ have a monocle, though he never felt quite so inclined to be that aggressively posh. The spectacles cultivated an air of fatherly calm, he found.

"Hm? Ah, I see. Easy to forget when I can do things other deities cannot... You see-" He paused, and rather suddenly disappeared through the floor. He reappeared on the other side of the desk, visibly translucent and momentarily devoid of colour before he became "solid" once again. "You do have a point. Jehovah let themselves fade to that status and see how they ended up..." He hummed a bit, stepping forward and extending a hand to Rhiel.

Slowly, he leaned forward. "However, Mister Rhiel... You think I would choose to live like this without a reason? To have a skeleton that cracks and pops when I stand up, regardless of any potential healing factor... To let myself be vulnerable to corporeal attacks... To being splashed with salts, to being beheaded, to nearly dying if I touch silver? I've long abandoned my mortality. I could have had any of the circles of hell remove my mortal coils and have my ascension to true deity status. It keeps me humble. So... Yes, I could believe someone doing this."

He smiled a bit wearily at the threat. "Of course, Mister Rhiel. I've no reason to share this with anyone before you allow it. C'mon. Let's get to intake."

-

Gods, he didn't like any of this. It was a mixture of fear and apprehension and worry and also the sting in the back of his mind that _no one had tried to stop him_. They'd been glad enough to see the back of him. No. Not conducive thinking. Ineal was.... peculiar, to put it mildly, seemed to have no qualms about showing off his abilities at the drop of a hat. No fear of discovery, and an aura of power that even Rhiel picked up on. Ineal had nothing to fear, whatever he said about the risks to his person- also so easily shared-, because he was powerful enough that no one would dare to try, much less succeed. The wiry Kirinae reached forward and accepted Ineal's hand, even as he buried those stirrings of doubt and regret as far down as he could. This was a good thing. All of it. He needed this, didn't he?

_Intake_. That didn't sound ominous. Nope. His calm was fading fast, and his cache of go-to treatments for it were all in Ineal's care- he hadn't even kept back his smokes. He was going to be good, damn it. At the very least, no one would be able to say he hadn't tried, when this, like every attempt he'd made to better himself before, also failed. "Yeah. Sure. Let's. You know the way, Doctor. I won't wander off."


End file.
